


A Circle Has No End

by Cactaceae28



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: But Hopefully a Good Take on It, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mentions of TOS and TNG, No Spoilers, Not Very Original Theme, POV Spock, Poor Spock, Spock feels, The eldest I mean, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8180011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cactaceae28/pseuds/Cactaceae28
Summary: At 169.73 years old, Ambassador Spock knew without a shred of doubt that he was finally dying. A certain crew is not ready to let him go without one last parting gift, though.





	

It is somewhat disconcerting, this knowledge of what is fast approaching. It is, perhaps unfortunately, not the first time he has had it -the utter certainty of his own inescapable demise- but those times were vastly different. More violent for one; more driven by a force outside of his control; faster.

Once, in the bowels of a ship that could still survive, if just one man was ready to make the sacrifice; yet another, caught in the heat of a dying sun and hurling towards a planet that had vanished without trace.

Two instances in time, both so full of regrets; though at least, not without meaning.

"Ambassador? There is a message for you."

He turns his head to the door, observing the young man nearly fidgeting on the threshold. Young Vulcans have taken to being more openly demonstrative with their emotions than their ancestors; while they still adhere to Surak's precepts, most of them have also studied or worked extensively with other races, especially humans. It is too early to tell whether this new attitude will mark an improvement for their people's way of life but he is willing to hope for the best.

There is nothing more to be done and, at times, he can believe that he has done enough. It seems like ever since his health took this definite turn for the worse he has had all manner of well-wishers and admirers fighting for his time and though he cannot blame them for their interest, he has long since grown weary of so many strangers clamoring for his attention.

There are, however, some familiar faces that have not yet made an appearance, so he lifts an eyebrow and prompts his aide (for all intents and purposes, his nurse) to continue. His patience is soon rewarded.

"It is the Enterprise, Ambassador. They are in orbit."

He sighs. He has been waiting for this moment, even if this is not fully able to fill the void of loss that has accompanied him for far too long; the crux of the matter is that this crew, this Enterprise is as foreign to the one where he served as the many starships that followed -that follow still, both in this universe and the others- the original.

Nearly twelve years have gone by since the battle of Vulcan and though he has gotten to know them almost as well as he knew the crew of his universe he has for the most part been content with assuming a role in the background; a sort of grandfatherly figure for the hopelessly inexperienced crew, an anchor for when the pressures of being the youngest officers of Starfleet became too much.

However even in that he has overstayed his welcome, because they have grown, pushed together past the adversities and now, running parallel with the versions they only know through his memory, they are just as strong as they were meant to be. It is a bond forged in misery and tragedy instead of quiet companionship, but none the worse for its turbulent beginnings.

Footsteps clatter down the hallway; Sunak moves outside to investigate, but before he can make a sound he's dropping, held by a blue-clad arm as he losses consciousness.

Suddenly Jim is there, blue eyes wide, breathing heavily and pushing an empty wheelchair into the room; behind him, Spock carefully lowers the aide to the floor, propping him in a less undignified position against the wall.

He raises both eyebrows in silent bewilderment, and reaches for the controls to raise the bed until he is half sitting, half lying down.

"Hey," Jim says, his breath hitching slightly. He waves his arm awkwardly, "We, um, heard."

"Jim."

The young captain stares at him like he's trying to cure his ailments by sheer force of will. For a moment he tilts his head and almost, almost looks like he stepped out of the old man's memories. The ambassador closes his eyes, exhausted.

"So," Jim continues "we just... we heard. Actually, they notified us a few weeks ago, but we weren't able to make it back any sooner, you wouldn't believe what happened. Or maybe you would, you know, I know better than anyone the kind of craziness your Enterprise got up to."

Behind him, his First looks briefly at the ceiling. Jim throws a brief glance and smile at him, as aware of the Vulcan's reactions as he is of his own. He turns back around.

"I guess there is nothing we can do?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I don't have much time left, my friend."

"And are you okay with this? I mean, this building is nice and all, but... we know you. This can't be where you rather d-" the word gets lodged in his throat and he shakes his head ruefully. "Anyway, we thought you might want to, you know, go up there one last time. So we've come to kidnap you." Jim concludes, glancing at him hesitantly. When the silence stretches on, he looks helplessly at his first officer, then back at him.

"Well, em, what do you want to do?" The captain says, nudging the chair an inch towards him.

With a start, he realizes that it is a question he has not considered for years, even before his unusual change in circumstances. He notes with surprise that Saavik was the last to ask him that, on the Jellyfish just before he left for Romulus. Her eyes had been sad even as her emotional control remained firm and he had known that she was already mourning him; back then, both knew that his nature would not have allowed him to do less than what his duty dictated.

There aren't any more duties that others can't perform now, barely any personal ties left at all; he looks up and finds his younger counterpart looking at him intently and the words of their first encounter linger, unspoken, between them. For once, do what feels right.

Though he longs for the red sands and orange skies that will soon be lost even to Vulcan memory, if he is to be true to himself, they are correct. What he wants most is to see the stars as they can only be seen up there, on the observation deck of a starship.

Above all, he wants... but Time has been a harsh mistress as of late; if the doctor was here, he may have claimed their respective fates to be their just punishment for meddling with what man was never supposed to meddle.

It has been so long since Leonard's death in the mother universe, nearly the last of his human crewmates to pass away; over a century since his Jim was lost to the Nexus; even longer since the original Enterprise had been lost. With those seemingly insurmountable odds, how can his deepest wish ever be realized? How can there be hope for them to ever find their way back to each other? It seems that there can be nothing left for his katra now.

Except...

There is a fire growing inside, one he recognizes as surely now as he would have decades ago. If he must die it won't be here in this sparsely decorated room, defeated and alone.

"Very well."

His joints protest as he gets up and moves towards the officers. As soon as he is out of the bed the medical alarms that were keeping track of his vitals go haywire. Jim jerks a little as if he barely manages to keep from lunging after him, in case something unthinkable has happened in these last few seconds and he smiles lightly even as he settles into the wheelchair because he no longer has a reason not to do so.

Then they are running.

Apparently the Enterprise crew has not taken the time to work through the massive amounts of red tape that would have been necessary to take an Elder of his caliber out of the planet, fearful that Starfleet or the High Council would object or that they would run out of time and have decided to expedite manners by simply absconding with him.

He knows the command team sees the moment he realizes this and they are clearly expecting a reprimand of some sort; the truth is that he wouldn't even if he had the breath to waste in doing such a thing. For the first time in a long time, he feels _alive_.

As they move out of the building and into the winding streets, the guards shout and try to give chase but are unwilling to fire lest they hit him, the perceived victim in this mad escape. He is not and with the wheelchair bouncing uncomfortably over the gravel there comes another memory claiming his attention: Christopher Pike, the journey to Talos IV and the adrenaline he hadn't quite managed to suppress as they fled the Starbase in spite of any mandate and regulation.

Another adventure that will never happen in this universe, for better or worse (and if he has prompted the Federation to establish contact with the Talosians, to send volunteers so they would be taught again to grow and to live outside of dreams, he considers it a debt repaid in full).

Finally they leave the protective forcefields of the city center behind and the hum of the transporter crescendos around them. When his vision clears, they are on the ship and he is amused to find that the young Mr. Scott has evidently been trying to grow a moustache without much success.

"Welcome home, Ambassador Spock."

He nods and says nothing as the three officers wrestle the chair down from the transporter platform while McCoy hovers around the group, holding his tricorder around Jim's arms and performing a quick diagnosis. The doctor's hand accidentally brushes his and a wave of concern emanates from him, though there is acceptance of what is soon to come at the same time.

It is doubtlessly illogical, this sudden surge of gratitude he feels. What little remains of his conscious controls have to be redirected to suppress the shivers at the sudden change in temperature, and all the movement has not done his aged body any favors; yet Bones would be proud, because he does not consider for a moment that the feeling is wrong.

It has only taken two centuries.

The hours pass much more quickly once he is aboard. Uhura catches up to them first, smiling warmly at him even as she berates her superior officers and promptly has them moving to the bridge, where they manage to sort the frantic calls coming from the planet and ensure there won't be a diplomatic incident over this.

Knowing enough, from the years that have passed since he arrived at Delta Vega, about who he is and who he had been, the senior bridge crew surround him. They show him everything they can think of, from the mess hall to the tentative prototypes of a holodeck, which he firmly refuses to enter. They are fiercely proud of this ship, with its sleek curves and pristine interiors, as any crew should be of their home.

In a lull of activity, they reminiscence about comrades lost far too young and an absence on the bridge that should not have come like it did. In a quiet voice, Sulu asks him to tell the whiz-kid all they couldn't say, if he passes him by.

And finally, his long journey comes to an end:

Up here on a spaceship, Time is a pretense. The crews pay their tributes to it, create an illusion of hours passing when it's necessary to do so, but the sky outside is always dark and unlimited; even if the stars around them change, it is here that Man will always be the closest to Eternity. 

The observation deck is silent and he is alone at last. He doesn't doubt that they are still waiting, just outside of his senses, all of them different enough and independent enough now that their universe will go on, separate from the one where he lived (where maybe he is living now, somehow, simultaneously as he dies here).

There is a certain numbness spreading inside his mind now, not unlike the vigil just before one sleeps. Instead of fighting it, he simply turns his thoughts inwards and the memories flash one last time behind his closed eyelids.

He remembers a fierce and beautiful commander across battle lines; a lovely prisoner locked out of her time; two unlikely people growing up and growing old together: all the could-have-beens that never fully were.

He remembers a proud race that has twice been forced to change the very foundation of their culture or face extinction and yet refuses to yield to the cruel whims of the universe; a dangerous man lost in time and fighting a doomed fight for the family he chose over and over and the looming threats to the Federation that this generation will never know.

He remembers all that has been lost and gained, all that will never be known and the one constant in every universe that has made it all bearable. At the very end, he finds that he has no regrets.

It will have to be enough.


End file.
